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// Untitled #1 [Scrapped] [Unfinished] 
// Story: Missing Pages & Scrawled Footnotes 
// by Ice Star 
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Sturdy Foundation was a very unimportant pony. He knew this, and did not mind, because there were many unimportant ponies. The only thing about him that was even close to noteworthy was that the doublet he was currently wearing was stitched with the image of Celestia's sun along the sleeves, and in fine gold thread that was fitting for a unicorn with a profession such as himself. And why would it be anything but the sun? The sun was iconic! There was no greater image, than perhaps the goddess herself, who needed 'We' above 'I' to convey even a fraction of her immense power and soul to those she ruled, all below her.

But Sturdy Foundation was an unimportant pony, with a name as boring and forgettable as he was. He had always accepted this, but he never gave it any real thought. There was no reason to.

It was everything except that hint of gold thread that caused him to blend in with his world. Canterlote, the city of stone, the City carved within the very 'flesh' of the mountain like pegasai worked clouds, drowned all out with its gray buildings, few which surpassed even six stories. It was a place that when not illuminated by werelights, was plunged into crooked shadows - but everypony knew that werelights and illumination were needed to force the night away, with all its mooncalves and foulness.

Even in the dawn, Foundation was devoured by slices of shadow that seemed to pour from the uneven and rough cobblestone streets, built with the labor of many slaves, for it was built in the First Equestrian Period, when the goddesses were two noble mares who lived in the woods and 'Princess' was an ornamental prefix to their names, for Platinum, Hurricane, and Puddinghead still ruled in unity then, governing the Tribes that had been united for over two hundred years now. Anypony who knew anything about Platinum knew that she was fond over the labor of slaves, something Equestria's goddess abolished. Now, ponykind was left with serfs.

Foundation gulped. He had no right in the presence of this goddess, for she was what granted him anything at all, but the morning air was cold and only increased his nerve. Even though there was a pomander tucked within his fine jacket, who knew what vile traces of the night hours still tainted the air?

He clutched the large sheets of paper that made up the bundle he was carrying to his chest, and took a few steps forward - how bold! - so that he stood in a patch of sunlight. All around him were walls of gray stone, still properly segregating everything. Grass, kept in control by the effort of many gardeners crunched underhoof. Oh gods, he was walking on the grass! Yet his errand was so urgent, would he be forgiven? This was royal property, after all, with the castle within the Everfree destroyed.

His horn glowed as he pressed the papers to his chest even more tightly. What he had been presented with couldn't be right. It simply couldn't. He wasn't the master Royal Architect, but even he can see when something was wrong with the plans that the Master had been presented with. Was somepony impersonating Celestia? Who would dare attempt to make choices for the great goddess as though they were her? The very thought had Foundation's stomach churning and his body chilled.

Maybe if he had been attentive, he would have picked up on a sound before he entered the Canterlote Gardens, with rigid, orderly borders of hedges that seemed to be even more austere than the stone. He could have heard of the slight burble of plain fountains and water splashing against stone - gray stone, of course. This was a gray city, with streets of sprawling stone veins that had little, if anything, between each building, mines and caves of crystal barely below it all, and tombs of the same stone - the only real art in the city other than a few rather modest towers - that carried rumors of ghosts now and then, when the magic in the night air was particularly potent.

So, maybe if the stallion who rushed about as best as he could, stumbling about here and there and trying not to fall and have his head dashed against the cobbled path, he would have heard the princes-goddess Celestia before he dared to approach her.

He was supposed to meet him in the orderly, but small array of hedges that was trimmed to perfection and housed a few statues, including a rather ghastly depiction of the monstrous draconequus Discord, who felled First Equestria, appearing shortly after Princess Platinum's death, only to be defeated by Princess Celestia in her war.

Foundation had not been there, of course, but he heard the stories: Princess Celestia, after an unsuccessful slew of attacks on him, ended the bloody affair with the usurper by wielding the newly-discovered Elements of Harmony! It was impossible not to admire their goddess for her efforts to ensure harmony in the land.

Foundation did not hear the sound of what was an uncharacteristic sound to even be thought of coming from Princess Celestia: hoarse whispering, as though some kind of gross sobbing had been occurring not long before.

While nopony else had been in the gardens lately, Foundation was sure that whatever he could've heard wasn't her at all. Princess Celestia was an empathetic mare, and cared for all good ponies. She smiled and laughed openly. In the events of sadness, she responded appropriately, and there would be tears shed, trickling down her face before being properly wiped away. She was not aloof, reclusive, unfriendly, or in any way unsocial. She was only distant because she was above everypony.

Perhaps the sound was some kind of leftover night-magic. Foundation looked to the sky, noting that even though it was not there, the moon would've still borne the new scars that had appeared three sunrises ago.

Ponies had rejoiced then. They thought it meant that the things that plagued them in the night would be gone: bad dreams, monsters, unbearable darkness, hidden evils, and the taint and other afflictions it could have imprinted upon sensible, good day-walking ponies.

Princess Celestia, in her modesty, had not participated in any celebrations or rumor-spreading that had since been going around Canterlote, and slowly, all of Equestria. Their goddess had triumphed yet again! Another evil was defeated, and she was so humble to withdraw from celebration. The fledgling, ever-fighting southern kingdoms had only inadequate mortal rulers. Equestria had Celestia.

When Princess Celestia was in view of Foundation, her head was bowed to hide the face that was the epitome of Equestrian beauty, and her great mane spilled forth to hide it. If Foundation didn't know better, he would think it was in slight in disarray. Her crown was... no, not fallen. It simply couldn't be fallen. By some rare accident she had dropped it, and it sat upon the dewy grass at her hooves, in the shadow of a pedestal where the image of a monster stood in stone, laughing.

She sat on the ground like she was a common pony, her wings still held tight at her side. Foundation was no featherbrain, but he knew his eyes deceived him when he observed a feather or two that appeared to be out of place.

"Your Majesty," Foundation said, sweeping into the lowest of bows - he was still careful to mind his papers - as he dared to speak to the princess before being spoken to, "I apologize for my careless and bold interruption of your precious time."
He heard the princess take a quiet breath, and a hollow sounding response escaped her. "I pardon you," she said with what could've been mistaken for a weary tone in any other, "and find no offence in your actions. Say what you must, commoner."

Foundation bowed his head even deeper. He was certainly not a commoner, except when compared to a goddess like Princess Celestia, so the reprimand, though in no way blunt - the horror of that thought - was still a scolding that he didn't expect from such a kind mare, but she also didn't know his name, so there was little she could call him at the moment. "Thank you, your forgiveness is of a value that cannot be measured," he replied, knowing that the princess that Equestria loved and obeyed without question was always forgiving of good ponies.

"I have allowed you to speak, then," she said quietly, rising from the ground to loom over him. "You may look upon me," she said with a creaky gentleness - the latter which she showed all her good subjects. Her focus seemed off. What could be distracting such a lovely mare?

Foundation looked upon Princess Celestia and had to hold back a gasp and poorly attempted to wrangle his emotion and keep it in check.

The elegant cosmetics that shaded her eyes and the powders that made her coat even whiter when she needed it to be even more radiant were running down her face and smudged in different places from where they had been applied, making her silky fur look like it was caked with snow or brushed the wrong way. Her eyes were puffy, pink, and moist with tears that still clung in them, and had yet to be rubbed away.

She reached up with a forehoof to gently wipe some of the powder lightly dusting her coat away. 

If this were a common mare being so openly emotional... about what, Foundation couldn't really guess, then he would have been a bit disgusted with the display, but since this was Princess Celestia, he couldn't fathom it.

Foundation drew away discreetly and withdrew a hoofkerchief from his sleeve with his magic, and levitated it over to her, eyes lowered from the sight of a saddened Princess Celestia with only her necklace and golden boots. He would've thought with the whispers of celebration concentrated in parts of her kingdom that she would be wearing one of the gowns that she was seen in on such occasions that begged for celebration, where she would stand, smiling brightly all done up in lace and ruffles.

While Princess Celestia was done mopping the runny make-up from her face, Foundation fell into a slight bow before presenting Princess Celestia with the bundle of papers he had carried here from Architects' Hall.

"This was the final design for the city and new palace to be built atop all of this-" Foundation dared to give a small sweep of his hoof to indicate Canterlote, and then he presented the design to the princess, pulling a scroll from his papers. The cracked wax seal with a sun indicated the writer, even if the enchantment in the wax had been broken.

Celestia looked down at the paper. The blueprints were drawn by a pony without much experience in Foundation's profession, but were by no means horrible enough to be unusable. Shown in them was a city unlike any other known to the ponies of the present.